Forest of Thoughts
by TearsOfDiamonds
Summary: This is a story of a dryad who lives in the mortal world. She goes unnoticed because she is small and quiet. but she sees everything and hears things before any of the other dryads do. What does she see? what does this have to do with Drew and her parents? what if Drew never made it to Camp?


**this is a story of a dryad who lives in the mortal world. she goes unnoticed because she is small and quiet. but she sees everything and hears things before any of the other dryads do. What does she see?**

Forest of Thoughts

An azure sky stretched across the horizon, merging with the teeth of the earth in the distance. A bird lingered in its flight, fighting against the wind. Clouds scudded across in the vast expanse, forming shapes and creatures unknown to those who cannot imagine. Apollo's chariot sits, parked, in the sky, casting light and creating shadows. The crystal lake reflected the world as a cleaner place, glimmering in the daylight, every beings favourite mirror, smoothing theirs flaws and exaggerating their splendour. My kin stand nearby, ever-seeing and wise. Some so sad they will forever be known as the weeping ones, others joyful and flowering. And then there is me, the outsider, one of a kind, ignored. I let the living breath, but I'm never thanked for my efforts. I bury the dead below me, but I am never recognised for my strength of mind. I let them cry to me and talk to me but they don't realise. They never will. They don't know that I hear every word they say, some don't even know I'm there. And I always know the truth, whispered amongst my brethren, carried by the wind we make.

So I stand on the edge, in the corner, concealed by the shadows. They are my friends. Allowing me to go unnoticed, to hear what no-one should, to learn the secrets of the world, become wise from the knowledge of the selfish and greedy, and from the knowledge of the kind and blissful. From the innocent, and from those who tear that innocence away. I watch as the world goes by, and I think. Of the shadows, the symbol of fear and death. The basis for so many nightmares, but they have no choice in what is said of them. They never will, because opinions don't change when they are passed from a parent to a child. I think of the options a being has to change. The decisions they face in front of me and all the different paths that could lead. They become stories I've memorised, based off truth but made of lies. It is the life I live.

_A young girl enters the clearing, her dark hair flowing out behind her, tears glistening on her cheeks, creating tiny rivers that fell to the ground. The leaves crunched under her feet as she approached me, looking behind her, as if to see if anyone had followed her. But I already knew no one had, news travels fast amongst my family. A young one travelling alone through our safe haven, rarely visited by these two legged beings, is seldom seen. She approaches me as I crouch back as best I could, my long arms lowering to cover my head. She reached out to me and collapsed, her dress in tatters, and leaves in her hair. Dirt streaked across her face, almost hiding her porcelain skin behind a layer of grime. _

_I remember how she lay at my feet, so small and vulnerable, staying quiet as she caught her breath. Then she sobbed, gripping onto my body as though it were her lifeline. She lent into me, burying her face in my neck as she poured her heart out to me. And I listened, I always do. I listened as she told me her story, the story of a troubled child growing up with uncaring parents, who would hurt her without a second thought. She told me of her school, how she would be bullied because she never wore short sleeves – even in the hot summers. She told me how she wanted to tell someone but she couldn't, because she was scared of the way people would look at her if they found out. And she didn't want their pity, so she hid it all, she wore a mask and hid herself deep inside. She acted carefree, a joker, but really all she wanted to do was break down and cry. She wore long garments to cover the scars, but she wanted them to notice. To put two and two together and get four, for someone to look into her eyes and see she wasn't who they thought she was. But all I could do was stand and watch as she exposed herself to me. Digging up the deepest of her feelings and baring all her thoughts. Because all she wanted was for someone to listen, and that was all I did, because that was all I could do._

It was one of my many unfinished stories. Often I would forget but this one I remembered. A story so full of tragedy that I knew there was no happy ending for her. But I still continued, finishing off the story in a way i thought the girl would act, and so I finished the story of a life that I would never see again, never knowing if it came true or not. I imagined her as she left. Not going back to her family, no – she wouldn't do that. Not after she's finally gotten away. But she won't make it far without help. I could see it, the clear sky being conquered by dark clouds, but his time there was no silver lining. I could see the evil radiating from these clouds, intent on making this small girl's last days some of the darkest of her life. But she only looked at them with as small smile, welcoming her end with open arms, relieved that she would finally find some peace of mind as the land around her was whipped into chaos...

_Clouds rolling and boiling across the sky quickly blot out the sun. She watches, fascinated by how such a terrible thing could be so beautiful. Clear pellets of water rain down hard and fast, glimmering like diamonds, the light reflecting off them. The freezing wind howls around her, tearing and ripping at her clothes one minute, the next slacking off and just a light breeze replacing it, softly caressing her cheek with cool fingers. The rain falls harder, stinging her face and soaking through her tattered clothes. Fires spring up around her but are quickly snuffed out by the downpour. Something hits her and she topples to the ground. Tiny diamonds fall around her as though she were a queen. A ray of sunlight escapes the dense clouds, illuminating a sole flower, its vibrant petals as red as blood. It stands leaning in the wind, a new life amongst this chaos. A miracle of survival, as the small unnoticed things will live on in peace, ignored because they aren't important, and left to live their life. Yes, it was beautiful, a dance of nature itself._

And so her story ended, the one story I would never, and could never forget, for it was similar to my own. Left alone, forgotten by our parents, and unnoticed by our 'friends'. So we just live on, the days blending together, as we go through the movements like machines our body's programmed to follow a routine. In one day I witness death and sadness, yet soon after, happiness and joy and I wonder how anyone could just ignore the problems of their family, and continue with their life, not taking the time to see what is really wrong. I am ignored, as people tell me things not knowing I hear every word they say no matter how quietly, I hear their deepest, darkest secrets, behold their most precious of moments.

But soon I must sleep, to escape the pain. The pain of watching your children leave, to grow up far away, of seeing those of us who never dull, never lose their lustre. Who stay as beautiful as a pearl throughout the year, whilst I lie dormant, losing my beauty one piece at a time - the mask that covers my bare face fall gently to lie below me, dried and brown, crackling at the slightest of movements as I now stand naked to the world, baring my soul, like that young girl did to me, but this time I was alone, with no one to listen to me.

So I create more, to keep me company, to keep up the façade and blend in with the others. To stay in the shadows, to keep hearing that which no one else will ever hear and to grow wiser with every word, passed on through our land, on the breeze that would not exist without us. No-one knows we are different, that we all have our own mind, our own feelings. But unlike them, all we can do is watch as they fell our kin. We can't fight back, like them. We can't stop them. We can only watch as we grow less and less. Murdered to fulfil the needs of the monsters. For all I am known as is '_That tree in the corner, the one that's too small to be cut down'._ And I am left alone, merging with the background. One blade of grass in a field, one stone that makes up a boulder, just part of the scenery...


End file.
